


Business Men Doing Important Business

by anarchycox



Series: The Executive and the Sandwich Man [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Affection, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arthur is a knight in shining pinstripes, BAMF Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Banter, Dancing, Established Relationship, Gwaine Flirts (Merlin), M/M, POV Gwaine (Merlin), Sex, Some feels, Uther is an Asshole, arthur has a slight footie obsession, arthur is adorable during rough sex, light role play sex, merlin and arthur brotp, slight name calling during sex, the last foam party in london
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:00:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28519020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anarchycox/pseuds/anarchycox
Summary: Gwaine loves many things. His best friend, his job, the third thursday in every month, and the live cams that zoos have of their animals.And he loves Arthur Pendragon.Uther Pendragon however doesn't care for that and tries a few different ways to end the relationship. The story of King Arthur might be a tragedy but in this modern au there is only true love conquering all.
Relationships: Gwaine/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: The Executive and the Sandwich Man [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2076213
Comments: 10
Kudos: 57





	Business Men Doing Important Business

**Author's Note:**

> The business that Gwaine and Percival run, runs in a completely fictional way to suit the purposes of fanfic.

Gwaine was sitting in his seldom used office. He didn’t like the space, it was small, and yeah it had a window, but it stared at another brick building. He usually grabbed his paperwork and sat on the counter in the kitchen that they had built in basically for Gwaine to sit on, and do the business paperwork that they didn’t have the accountant or lawyer deal with. And besides Gwaine always double checked their work anyways. His father used to say ‘trust everyone but cut the cards yourself’ and the one time he didn’t cut the cards himself he died. So Gwaine double checked.

But Percival said he had had a recipe idea and when he walked in with that prounouncement, the whole staff had cleared out. When Percival had a recipe idea, the end result was amazing, but getting there was messy. And very shouty. Gwaine looked over the orders for next week, seemed like it was going to be a heavy soup week. The end of January was being especially miserable this year, so that made sense. He sent a few messages to their vegetable supplier, and then hit the small stack of mail. Gwaine opened a letter and could hear the yelling from the kitchen. A cheque fell out and he was surprised, because he wasn't expecting an actual cheque; most of their business was etransfer. He read the letter and frowned. Fuck, he’d have to bother Percival. At least he got to leave the office. 

The kitchen was a disaster. He could see what were clearly a bunch of failures, and Percival pulling a tray out of the oven. “What are those?”

“Apple pie,” Percival said.

“Mate pie is big and round, those are tarts? Turnovers?”

“Don’t get technical,” Percival snapped. He brushed them with a bit of dulce de leche, and it slowly dripped over the little bits of pastry. “I thought offering one or two small desserts might be a big hit. Just that tiny little after your meal morsel. Just one bite of sweet to get you through your afternoon. Offered on say Tuesdays, because everyone needs some get up and go on a Tuesday, and on Friday as a little you made it to the weekend treat. Have these and that fudge you make.”

Gwaine smiled, fudge was literally the only dessert he could make. He had barely passed culinary school thanks to his fucking baking scores. But the fudge was damned good. “Not a bad idea,” he agreed. They both sat and stared at the little cooling turnovers until Percival nodded and they both tried one. Gwaine chewed carefully, eating it in two bites, though it was definitely small enough he could have jammed the whole thing in his mouth. Which he did with the next one. Percival was frowning unsatisfied though. He laughed thinking of their friend from culinary school. “Quarter teaspoon of cardamom,” he said laughing. “It needs just the tiniest pinch of cardamom.”

Percival thought about it, and there was a small huff of laughter as he nodded in agreement. “You like the idea?”

“I do,” Gwaine said. “We roll it out for Fridays to start. Maybe give a few free samples to people to try. Can then expand to Tuesdays.” He ate another of the bites. “Great fucking work, Percy.” He smiled at the red that drew up Percival’s neck. The man always reacted to compliments like that. He was in a good mood having had a success and Gwaine didn’t particularly want to ruin it, but they had to talk. “Got a letter. Agravaine canceled his company’s contract with us.” 

Percival leaned against a spot of counter that wasn’t a mess. “When was he due to renew?”

“Next quarter. He paid the full penalty.” It was a failsafe they had built into the business. Companies had a contract with them to provide lunches, and then individuals put in their orders and paid every other week. If a company had a contract, the employees got 10% off their order with every 15th meal being free. A bunch of their classmates had thought they were insane for setting up a business like that, but Gwaine’s father had been a corporate man, he knew how those sorts of people worked.

Usually.

Arthur was a bit of an exception. 

But they set it so that if a corporation was done with them before the contract was over, they had to pay a five thousand pound penalty. No one did it, because the contract only cost a company a hundred quid every quarter otherwise. A few times when company’s had to re-up they just said no thank you and that was fine. It was the first time someone paid the penalty.

“How many lunches a week were we delivering to Agravaine?” Percival started to clean the kitchen, needing something to do.

“Range was 48-63.”

“Not one of our biggest, but that is what four hundred pounds a week?”

“There abouts,” Gwaine agreed. “Means we’re holding on those new fridges.” The ones they had found were fine, and Elyan was amazing at repairing them. But they only had so much more life left. Percival nodded a bit. “But hey, no more seeing that asshole so that is a good thing.”

Percival smiled at that and Gwaine hopped off the counter, and helped him clean up the area. Once it was set to rights, Gwaine looked at the clock. “Even going to be home in time to watch the game with Arthur.”

“That sounded frightfully domestic.”

“Shut it, you want to come?”

“No, thanks.” Percival hugged him and kissed his head. “Don’t fret about this too much.”

“Me, fret?”

“You are a champion fretter,” Percival replied, “because come on, if we were going to have a first penalty contract, of course it was that asshole.”

Gwaine grinned, because yeah that was the goddamn truth. “How that man is related to Arthur, I’ll never figure out.” He gave Percival a swat on the ass. “See you Monday morning seven am.”

“We start at five am on Mondays, Gwaine.”

“Do we, I was sure it was seven.”

He was pushed to the door. “Five,” Percival called, “Just like it has been for the last six years.”

“We have sous chefs, why can’t they do the Monday five am?” Gwaine whined, just like he did every week, as if he wasn’t the one who insisted on being there for the vegetable delivery to double check it. 

“Go watch footie.”

“Rather hoping that I can distract Arthur during the second half,” Gwaine wiggled his eyebrows dramatically.

“Good luck with that,” Percival waved him off and Gwaine was whistling dreadfully as he left their shop. They had finished up earlier than he had expected, meant he actually had a Saturday afternoon, night, and all of Sunday off. Maybe he could convince Arthur to go out for some drinks and dancing tonight. He felt like moving. But he wondered if Arthur danced at all. And asking the man wasn’t the way to go.

 _Does Arthur dance?_ He texted Merlin.

 **Think about what you just asked** , was the reply he got.

_He must dance a little._

**Very little and very badly.**

_Is there a way to bribe him, want to take him out tonight, get all hot and bothered on the dance floor._

**I can make it happen but it will cost you.**

Gwaine had an extra spring in his step, because now that he had the idea in his head, he desperately wanted it. _Name your price._

**You are cooking a romantic as fuck dinner for me and Lancelot of Valentine’s day.**

He could actually do that, they closed on Valentine’s day because it was always a shitty day for the business everyone spent their money on flowers and chocolate and nice dinners. _Sure. You want to come along dancing?_

**Yes, because watching Arthur try to move his hips is funny.**

_He moves his hips just fine, Merls._

He got several puking emojis in return and pocketed his phone. Gwaine stopped and got himself a coffee, because he did not want Arthur to offer to make one. He could handle that sludge in the morning because at least that shit woke him up, but he didn’t want to completely kill all his taste buds. He nodded to the doorman who had finally stopped glaring at him, which was rather good because he was moving in next month. But Gwaine knew he looked disreputable in comparison to most of the tenants of the small building. It always surprised him that Arthur didn’t live in a huge rise, but instead a converted historical building. But his Arthur hated heights. He could handle them at work, but at home it wasn’t an option. There was an elevator but Gwaine took the central staircase up and let himself in.

“Hey, babe, we got finished early,” Gwaine called as he put away his coat and shoes in the hall closet. There was no response. Odd that. Once he was properly in the flat, he could hear the shower running. Not a normal time for Arthur, but maybe the man had done an extra workout or something. He was about to settle in, put the telly on when he heard a loud thump. Gwaine ran to the bathroom and didn’t bother knocking. “Arthur, are you alright?”

He caught the scent of perfume in the air. Sniffed a bit. “What the fuck?”

“I didn’t cheat on you,” Arthur said from the shower, “I swear.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” Gwaine frowned and looked at the pile of clothes on the ground. That was where the perfume scent was coming from, and there was lipstick on the collar of a white dress shirt. He nodded a bit. “I see.”

“Gwaine, I swear -” Arthur looked terrified and incredibly upset through the foggy glass.

Gwaine pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts. He didn’t want to make this call, but it was the only option. It rang a bit. “Hey, Morgana, Uther tried to set it up so I would think Arthur was fucking around.” He had to hold the phone a bit away from his ear at the cursing that happened. “Yes, yes, I know, that is why I called you. Letting you free, gorgeous, he wants to fuck around, let him find out.” Gwaine smiled a bit, because no one had a better evil laugh than Morgana. “Have fun, gorgeous, you get arrested, I have a decent lawyer.” He hung up and stripped down. He got into the shower with Arthur and pulled him close, kissed him as the water fell on them both. “Are you okay?”

“You really believe me, just like that?”

“Of course I do, Arthur beyond anything else, you were raised with Morgana.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You flinch away from red lipstick, it is too associated with her for you. You’d never pick anyone who wore red lipstick.” Gwaine kissed him again. “You are also clever and if you were going to cheat on me, you’d make sure the woman wore no scent so you wouldn’t be caught. And perhaps most importantly, princess, you simply could never cheat on your partner.” Another kiss, “Because you are loyal, and loving, and care too much about your personal honour. You wouldn’t cheat on me.”

Arthur gripped his wrists and it hurt but Gwaine didn’t say anything. “I wouldn’t,” Arthur swore. “It was a woman who worked for my father. Nimueh, she made a public scene.”

Fuck, this likely ruined his chances at dancing with Arthur tonight.

“Come on, how about we cuddle and watch the game?” 

Arthur nodded. “I wouldn’t cheat on you. I don’t cheat on anything ever.”

“I suppose I should be honest with you,” Gwaine cupped his face and looked him dead in the eye. “In second form, I cheated off my mate’s spelling test for the word because.” He enjoyed the look of annoyance Arthur gave him at that. “And when I was twenty one, I cheated on my girlfriend. First and last time I did that, it was a stupid drunken choice, but when she kicked me to the curb I didn’t argue about how it was a mistake and just one time. I was a shit boyfriend, and there was no excuse. But I hated the way her face just crumbled when I told her. Couldn’t handle making someone else look like that again. Maybe haven’t been the best boyfriend always since then, but was never shit.”

“Thank you,” Arthur pressed a kiss to his neck.

Gwaine turned the water off as it was starting to go tepid and got out of the shower. He wrapped a towel around his waist, not particularly caring about drying off himself, instead pulling another towel from the rack and drying off Arthur gently, carefully. Gwaine looked at Arthur and figured he needed to be extra careful about what he said next. “Did she have good knockers at least?”

Arthur gave him a scalding glare. “Gwaine!”

“No really, did your father at least try to entice you with like classic bazooms?” Gwaine held his hands out in from. “Were they hoiked up really well?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never looked at breasts like that.” Arthur was clearly thinking about it. “Huh, when she grabbed me, they didn’t go squish. Aren’t breasts supposed to go squish when you are hugged tight?”

“Fake maracas, now that is a shame,” Gwaine shook his head. “He couldn’t even get you the real deal, nice, juicy squishy -” Arthur’s mouth pressed hard against his and Gwaine was honestly thankful because he had blanked on another stupid word for breasts. 

“You are an idiot,” Arthur said as he pulled away.

“Yes, but I am your idiot. So wanna watch footie naked?” 

“No in front of the boys, Gwaine!”

Gwaine frowned, “wait are you having someone over?” Arthur was flushing red. “Arthur, do you think that the players of the field will somehow magically know that the great Arthur Pendragon is watching them with his meat and veg hanging out?”

“Shut it.”

“You do, you think a mid fielder will stop during play and just go “Arthur Pendragon has his cobblestones and street lamp on his couch, at this very moment.”

“Cobblestones and street lamp?” Arthur gave him a light punch. “That one doesn’t even exist.”

“It should,” Gwaine grabbed an elastic band and pulled his wet hair back into a small ponytail. “But just so as not to offend your boys sensibilities, I’ll put some pants on.” He grabbed a pair of boxer briefs and put them on, then went to the kitchen and found some crisps and a few other bits and bobs. He couldn’t help himself and put together an attractive tray and poured a couple of beers in glasses he chilled while he put the food together. He nodded, well pleased with the look of it and went to the couch where Arthur was already sitting, and even wearing a jersey. He was fucking adorable for a ruthless business mogul. “Snacks.” He got a vague grunt in reply.

He half watched, and snacks as he scrolled on his phone. Gwaine liked footie, but more playing pick up in the park versus watching. He did like going to live games with Arthur, the man got deliciously intense. Arthur’s phone bonged and he ignored it. Gwaine winced those as the bongs happened with increasing frequency until Arthur cursed and actually looked at his phone. He briefly typed and went back to his game. The pattern repeated a few more times until Arthur growled. “Fine!” he shouted at the phone. He then clearly typed that and the bongs ceased. Must have been a work thing.

Gwaine ate and read the book Percival had recommended about the spice road from the middle ages. He was actually fairly into it when Arthur cheered and did a little dance. “We won?”

“We did,” Arthur was beaming and then it faded, “oh fuck, we won.”

“How is that bad?”

“The phone was Merlin he bet me, if his team won he’d actually fill out his paperwork properly without a single there is _no ethical consumption under late capitalism_ note, and if my team won we’d all go out dancing tonight.”

“You had a hard day, you don’t have to.” Gwaine couldn’t believe he forgot to text Merlin. 

“No, it could actually be fun, so long as you don’t expect me to dance?”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind a dance or two,” Gwaine said. “Slow grinds. Make everyone jealous that I get to take you home.” He could tell Arthur liked that thought. “Hold you close, make you think about what I’ll do to you after. Or maybe then, it a dark corner of the dance club?” He gentle teased.

“No,” Arthur said firmly, “but you can talk about what you could do in that dark corner. Whisper it to me when you are pretending what we are doing is dancing.”

“Now there is an idea.” Gwaine would have pulled him close, but the telly went to another game and Arthur was distracted. Gwaine texted Merlin to find a club that was dark and aimed for sexy rather than raucous. Merlin texted back that he knew the perfect place.

Several hours later, Gwaine looked in the mirror. Shit, he might actually be getting too old for the black singlet and beat up jeans look. It still all fit, but just didn’t seem right for going out with Arthur, even if it was to the club. He had a drawer and a third of Arthur’s closet at this point which was enough to house all his clothes and he pulled a vest and a shirt out. He was trying to decide when he heard a whimper. He turned his head and Arthur was staring at his arms. “I know I am fixing it.”

“No!”

“No?” Gwaine slowly put the shirts back. “I look a little old for this.” Arthur shook his head in disagreement. “Bit too aging rent boy.” Arthur’s breath caught a bit, and Gwaine felt a low heat in his stomach. “Now, did I just learn something interesting about my boyfriend?” Gwaine moved closer. “Want to talk about it?” There was a very quick shake of Arthur’s head no. “Not tonight, but soon?” Gwaine asked. “Because if you want to play a little, I am happy to knock on your door wearing slutty clothes and saying, sorry your usual boy wasn’t available, hope I will do?” Arthur moaned a bit. Gwaine bit his lip and moved closer. “Promise I am worth every penny, sir.” Arthur’s kneels buckled just a bit before he straightened. “We are very much playing with this later.”

“Morgana watched Pretty Woman when we were teens one year every night for 7 months straight. It was perhaps at a formative age.” 

Gwaine stared at the bed, really tempted to skip tonight, but it was his idea and dammit he wanted to dance with Arthur. Some place that had a slow throbbing beat, a glass of whisky in hand. He groaned though because they could be a few minutes late. He dropped in front of Arthur and unzipped his denim. “Sir, how about I show you how much better I am than the other boys at the service?”

Arthur swallowed. “How about you do that?” His hands sank into Gwaine’s hair and they didn’t talk after that.

*

Gwaine held Arthur to stop him from leaving, though to be fair, he was debating leaving too. “Merlin? I asked for seductive.”

“And not raucous,” Merlin agreed. He was soaking wet and had a fair bit of glitter attached to him. “And it was supposed to be. But I guess this place is going to be shutting down and they decided fuck it, fuck the landlord for screwing our lease, they want the building back they can have it back, wrecked. So…closing foam party.”

“How, how did you find a club in London that still did foam parties?” Gwaine was almost in awe.

“They don’t. It is a we’re closing one off. Hey remember your twenties?” Merlin was grinning.

“Of course and they didn’t involved…this,” Arthur waved a hand at the foam belching from machines. “It looks like an orgy in a dystopic movie!” he had to shout because the music grew louder. “And where is Lancelot?”

“Somewhere in there, shirtless probably at this point. He too is remembering his twenties. Gwaine?”

“Honestly before twenty six is a bit of a blank, but what the fuck.”

“You can’t be serious. Do you know how unhygienic it is going to be on that dance floor?” Arthur reached out and grabbed a railing. “I’m not going in there.”

“Fair,” Gwaine promised. “Mind if I do?”

“I guess not. But good god, try not to swallow any of that, or get it in your eyes!” Arthur was staring at the mess in horror. “I guarantee you there is hepatitis out there.”

Gwaine snorted a bit and gave his jacket to Arthur to watch over. He followed Merlin into the swell of people and foam and sure enough Lancelot was shirtless. “Sorry, Merls, can I?”

“Oh yeah, I wanna see that,” Merlin agreed. Gwaine went over to Lancelot with a raised brow and Lancelot nodded. Soon they were moving together in a easy rhythm that swiftly grew filthy. They both loved their boyfriends madly, but neither could move like that and they sank into the dance. There were whistles and catcalls and Gwaine buried his face against Lancelot’s neck, because fuck the man could move his hips. 

Foam poured over them and Lancelot spun Gwaine so he was behind the man. “Are they watching us?” 

“They are,” Gwaine said. Merlin had moved over next to Arthur who was as close was he could get without actually getting in the foam. They were both staring intently. Merlin didn’t look jealous, not quite. Possessive. Lancelot was his, and he was dancing with Gwaine only because of Merlin’s permission. Arthur just looked dazed and hungry. Gwaine wondered if he was thinking about earlier. The song changed and Gwaine and Lancelot forgot about their audience and just enjoyed dancing with each other.

“Can I join the party?” was said next to them, and they looked over. Gwaine supposed they could classify what Morgana was wearing as a top. Even with all that skin she somehow looked regal. 

They moved apart to give her room to choose who she wanted to dance with and she slid in between them, one hand reaching up to Gwaine’s neck, one reaching back for Lancelot. Gwaine’s head was brought down. “I promise tomorrow he will be suffering,” she said into his ear. Okay, then. Gwaine smirked and pressed against her. “Let’s see if you boys can keep up.”

Several songs later, Gwaine’s knees let him know he wasn’t used to that much grinding anymore and he couldn’t help himself, he gave them both a hard kiss, because that was the best he had felt in a long fucking time, cutting loose like that. He signaled that he was going to go to the others and they shrugged, followed along. The others had disappeared and it took a bit to find them. They went upstairs where it was quieter and a man flagged them down. “Your party is in a private room,” he said. He gestured. “Second door.” 

Gwaine took lead, and the first thing he saw was a pile of towels, “God bless,” he groaned and quickly began to wipe down. “Forgot how sticky the foam feels when you aren’t in it.” He properly looked over at his friends and boyfriend and wanted to fucking coo. “Are you playing cards? Where did you even get a deck?”

Arthur just shrugged, “Every bar has a deck of cards. It is a weird law of nature. Even if they don’t think they do - they do.” He tossed down a card and picked another up.

He was on a large couch sitting on the edge so Gwaine was able to move around him, bracket Arthur’s legs with his. “This good?” He wrapped an arm around Arthur’s stomach and felt Arthur lean back against him. 

“Mmmhmm,” Arthur agreed.

“Lancelot?”

“Yes, Merlin?” 

“You can sit next to me,” Merlin looked at him imperiously, “You are in trouble for not dancing with me like that.”

“I am, am I?” 

Merlin tried to look imperious and failed miserably. “God no, that was fucking hot.”

“I didn’t know where to look,” Gwen lay out a hand. “Gin.”

Arthur took careful score. “I did. Anywhere but Morgana. I think I saw side boob.” He shuddered a bit. “Also I knew you could dance, you won all those ballroom competitions when we were kids. But seriously how can you move like that?”

“I am going to kill you.”

“What, why this time?” Arthur was clearly confused.

But Gwaine was beaming. “Morgana? Ballroom dancing competitions?” He managed not to snicker because he did like being alive, but it was close. “Oh god, ballroom competition hair on Morgana.” The whole table lost it, but her scowl faded when Gwen kissed her. 

“I was quite good, thank you. Uther wouldn’t let me sword train like I wanted. Barely let me do field hockey. Ballroom dancing was the compromise.” She shrugged. “And following the rhythm of the music is the same whether it is a foxtrot or grinding against Gwaine’s crotch. Which congratulations there, brother.”

The whole table lost it at Arthur’s look of embarrassment and horror. Arthur used the phone in the room to get them drinks brought up, and even when he was a little tipsy, Arthur refused to go on the dance floor, but encouraged Gwaine to go play. Everyone at some point gravitated to it, one person always staying with Arthur until they left at one. “Next time, we’ll go to a place where you actually dance with me,” Gwaine said in the cab. Uber. No, nicer than either. And he was getting the seat wet. “Hello, driver man, sorry about the wet butt shape I’ll be leaving on the leather.”

“Quite alright sir, not the worst that has been left in the back of a car.”

“I called the car service our company uses got cars for everyone,” Arthur explained.

“You take such good care of us.” Gwaine leaned against him. “You would have looked great in the foam, you look great wet.”

“I look like a drowned golden lab.”

“I like it.” Gwaine snuggled against Arthur until they were at the flat, and they stumbled in. The doorman glared at them, and Gwaine guessed he was back on that shit list and when they were upstairs, he turned to ask if Arthur maybe wanted one last drink. Instead he found himself crowded back against the door, and the heat in Arthur’s eyes almost burned him.

“Can we play?” Arthur whispered and Gwaine nodded. “Just the thing from earlier?” Gwaine grinned and gave another nod. Arthur beamed for a moment and then his face went stern. Captain of industry Arthur. Gwaine should not find it as sexy as he did, but fuck prat Arthur was a hell of a look. “Well, you certainly gave me my money’s worth watching you dance like that.”

“You told me you wanted a show,” Gwaine was a bit breathless as Arthur’s hands slid up under his vest which was sticky and uncomfortably cold against his skin. “Did you like it?”

“Hmm,” Arthur said, and oh fuck, he tore the singlet. Actually fucking tore the singlet. Gwaine needed to watch him work out more. “Were you wishing that perhaps Lancelot or Morgana had been the ones to pick you up and buy you tonight?”

“No, Lancelot is too sweet, and Morgana would eat me alive. You are just right.”

“Should I call you Goldilocks?” Arthur teased and tugged at the fly of the denim. “Naked. Now.”

Gwaine had to push to get the wet denim off and in a couple moments he was naked, they were still in the damn foyer.

“I don’t want all that glitter on my bed. Go shower and open yourself up, the second your knees touch the bed, I am going to fuck you. Use you. No foreplay, you had that already on the dance floor. So you better be goddamn ready. Understood -” Gwaine could see Arthur take a breath prepare for it to go wrong, “-whore?”

Gwaine nodded. “Understood, sir.” He leaned into Arthur. “All good, promise,” he whispered.

“I won’t hurt you,” Arthur whispered back, “It is just pretend.”

If Gwaine hadn’t been in love already, that moment would have sunk him completely. “I know, babe.” Gwaine hurried to the shower and cleaned off the glitter and sticky and prepared himself, eager for Arthur to be a bit rough. He wasn’t as thorough as perhaps he could have been but did enough. He dried off quickly and went to the bedroom. “Fuck,” he breathed out as he saw Arthur stretched out on the bed, stroking himself. “Sir, can I please suck your cock?”

“No, you haven’t quite earned that right, yet. Get on the bed, time I get what I have been paying for.” 

Fuck it. Gwaine sank to the ground and crawled over to the bed, enjoyed the gasp that Arthur gave. The minute he was on the bed, Arthur was hauling him, moving him exactly how Arthur wanted, and fuck Gwaine adored the strength in those shoulders, those arms. He braced himself and whined when he heard the rip of a condom being opened. At this point they had been tested a few times, and agreed to mostly go bare. He liked the feeling of Arthur pressing into him bare.

“I’m going for authenticity,” Arthur explained. “Wouldn’t fuck a rent boy without a condom, would I?”

Gwaine hung his head. “I fucking adore every single bit of you, princess.” There was a light smack against his arse and he jolted a bit, his cock leaked. Well he just learned a thing about himself. They’d talk about it another time. This was Arthur’s fun. He felt Arthur press against him, not even checking how well Gwaine prepped himself, just trusting Gwaine to have done what needed doing and he slowly pressed in.

“Not bad,” Arthur grunted. “Didn’t expect a pretty whore like you to have such a tight arse. Figured you’d be all used, pretty one like you? They have to be lined up to buy you.”

“Down to part time, also in school.”

“Oh yeah,” Arthur snapped his hips. “What sort of school?”

“Culinary,” Arthur was fucking him too hard for Gwaine to think of an actual lie.

“Pretty little whore, wants to make pretty little food?”

“Something like that, fuck right there. Jesus fuck, sir,” Gwaine moaned as Arthur changed the angle a little bit.

“Hmm, I could use a personal slut. Maybe pay for your school for you. That interest you?”

Lord, Arthur really did want a bit of a kept man, to be a sugar daddy, didn’t he? It was sweet really, the way he just wanted to take care of someone. “Yes,” Gwaine moaned. “I’d be so good for you.”

“Prove it.” Arthur pulled out and flipped Gwaine over so they were facing each other. He slid back in and fucked hard. Gwaine wrapped his legs around Arthur’s hips and basically just held on. They moved in tandem a rhythm built over a year together. Arthur was done first and pulled out. “Give me a show like you did on the dance floor.” Gwaine stroked himself off as Arthur dealt with the condom, running to the bathroom to get rid of it and returning. Gwaine arched up as he shot all over his chest and then he collapsed against the bed. “Fuck you are gorgeous. Think I am going to keep you.”

“I am okay with that,” Gwaine replied, and pulled Arthur down for a kiss. He wiped himself off with tissues that he just tossed on the nightstand, too lazy to get up. Arthur pinched him and he didn’t move. “Comfy.”

There was a huff and Arthur dealt with them, but didn’t come back. Gwaine heard the toilet flush but still no return of Arthur. He thought about it. “Shit,” he cursed and hurried to the bathroom. Sure enough Arthur was braced against the sink, head bowed. “No,” Gwaine said. He straightened Arthur and kissed him. “It was wonderful.”

“I shouldn’t have said mean things to you. Called you names.”

“It is different than what your father said to you and Morgana.” Gwaine cupped his face. “It was acting, and it was hot as fuck.”

Arthur breathed slowly out. “You liked it? It wasn’t too much?”

“Arthur, I once -” Gwaine cut himself off, because if he said the hardest he had ever done in bed, the man would pass out. “It was fine, that was vanilla with sprinkles my love. I am more than okay with vanilla with sprinkles.”

“I really liked it,” Arthur admitted.

“We’ll have a proper talk about it all over brunch tomorrow, get some stuff sorted. I’ll make you french toast and we’ll figure out how much we want to do and what to do. But for now you are crawling into that bed and I am cuddling the fuck out of you.” Gwaine tugged him, relieved when Arthur let him tug. They settled into bed, and Gwaine held him close. “You were so damn hot, babe.”

“Thanks. I had to pretend Morgana was someone else, but lord the three of you looked great on the dance floor.”

“I kissed them,” Gwaine was honest.

“Sure, heat of the dance, putting on a show. It didn’t mean anything,” Arthur easily agreed. 

“It didn’t,” Gwaine promised. “So, do we want to talk about how Merlin is very clearly in charge of Lancelot? Because I have opinions on that.”

“We do not want to talk about that,” Arthur said firmly. “We are going to talk about my team’s chances at their next match.”

“Sure,” Gwaine agreed and they talked sports until they fell asleep.

*

“Fuck,” Gwaine stared at the numbers. “Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck.” 

“That bad?”

“We are fine for the next month, but we might have to let two people go.” Gwaine was running the numbers again. Three more contracts canceled and paid the penalty, which meant they were fine for a bit, but this was a huge blow. He crunched the numbers. “If I give up thirty percent of my pay, my savings can balance it out for four months, and we can keep one of the employees.”

“Me as well,” Percival said.

“You don’t have to,” Gwaine replied and Percival just gave him a look. It was why they worked so well together, their goals and moral compass were very aligned. “I just don’t understand why. Quality hasn’t dipped, we haven’t gone too exotic with any menu changes. The dessert idea has had a great response. Why the fuck has a third of our business canceled on us?” Gwaine felt sick. They had never had anything like this, even when they started up and fucked things up as they learned. “Percival?” He was lost.

“I don’t know, but looks like it is back to drumming up business,” Percival said bracingly. “We can do this. They don’t want us, fuck them. Others will.”

Gwaine nodded. “I need to cook.” It was that or start punching things. God, he missed bar fights for sorting out his feelings. But a decade and responsibilities had put that part of himself well behind him. “Come on,” he said. They settled into their kitchen and Gwaine just let his hands move and handed things to Percival and they worked in tandem and a bit later they had a gorgeous shepherd’s pie. Simple, cozy, comforting. Who cared that it was ten am. They both grabbed forks and dug in. They ate and made plans how to recover the business when there was a knock on the door. “Delivery?” Percival asked.

“Generally not on Saturday,” Gwaine got up and went to the door. He went very still. “Hello.”

“May I come in?”

“No,” Gwaine replied.

“How rude,” Uther glared, “not surprising, but still. You might want to let me in, unless you want your business to entirely collapse.”

There it was, the explanation that Gwaine hadn’t been able to find. He moved out of the way and went back to the kitchen letting Uther follow him. “Percival, this is Uther Pendragon.” Gwaine sat and began to eat again. “I’d offer you a fork, but you probably don’t want to share our spit.”

“Indeed,” Uther stood across the kitchen island. “It is very simple, gentleman. I have used my contracts and ruined several of your contracts, and there are a couple more I can do the same to. I can spread rumours of food gone off, quality going down hill, that guarantees a large swath of London businesses never avail themselves of your services ever again.”

Gwaine’s free hand formed a fist where Uther couldn’t see it, and Percival’s fingers closed gently over top. He breathed slowly, and ate more of the pie. 

“Conversely, I can promise you a great deal of business, should you see reason.”

“Let me guess, reason is breaking up with Arthur?” Gwaine put his fork down. “I am sure you were disappointed when I didn’t believe Arthur cheated on me.” Percival gave him a look, but Gwaine ignored it for the moment. “You really are a fucking cunt. Bet you adored doing business with Caerleon.”

“He was an excellent man to work with,” Uther agreed. “I was disappointed when Arthur severed all ties with him.”

“Arthur is a good and ethical man. Which must annoy the fuck out of you, that you didn’t raise a carbon copy of yourself. If you wanted a ruthless person in your image you shouldn’t have been so shit to Morgana, she would have taken no prisoners.” 

“Break up with Arthur, or see your business destroyed. Is a romance that you will get bored of worth losing everything?”

“Been over a year and I haven’t been bored yet,” Gwaine said. “We move in together next month. That why you’ve ramped all this up?” Gwaine looked at him. “Fuck, I have a miserable relationship with my mother, but at least I know she fucking loves me. You have made your children fear and hate you. How does that sit with you?”

Uther wasn’t even looking at him right now, but Percival. “Think of it, are you willing to let your business be ruined because of a relationship? Surely you can talk sense into Gwaine. I understand you two used to be close. Don’t you wish things were different?”

Percival stood up, and went over to Uther. He held out his hand. “We didn’t actually formally introduce ourselves. Percival St. John. How do you do?” Uther was clearly thrown off by the manners and automatically held out his hand as well. Percival clasped it and didn’t crush it but also didn’t let go. “I want us to be crystal clear in this moment, so that you don’t leave here under any false impressions. I love Gwaine, deeply and eternally. He is my brother. Yes, we dated a bit after culinary school, but it was because we didn’t want to let go of each other, not because we were romantically suited. And we decided to build this business. He is my blood and my soul, and I like to think I am the same to him. And if you ruined our business? We would cope and find something else. If you ruined that as well, we’d make cotton candy at the circus if need be, cater children’s parties, dress as clowns if we had to. You can ruin our work, but you could never ruin us. And no trick or stunt or asshole move you do, will ruin Gwaine and Arthur’s relationship, all it will do is completely drive Arthur away from you. Mister Pendragon, this is your moment of truth, change or lose everything.”

“You are fools. No relationship is worth sacrificing your business.”

“I feel very sorry for you, and now I am asking you to leave our shop, or I will help you leave.” Percival let go of Uther’s hand. “Goodbye, Mister Pendragon.”

Gwaine smiled as Percival came and sat next to him. They went back to eating and ignored Uther as he stood there nonplussed. The man left without another word and Gwaine supposed that was a bit of a victory. They put the leftovers in the fridge to eat the rest on Monday, and Gwaine found him leaning against the stainless steel. Percival wrapped around him from behind. Hugged him.

“You have to tell Arthur.”

“I don’t,” Gwaine protested. “It will hurt him, that his father has done that.”

“You have to tell him.” Percival kissed his head. “We’ll make it through.”

Gwaine gave a nod and they locked up. Gwaine went to Arthur’s flat, and he was in front of the telly watching a game and doing some paperwork. “We need to talk.”

Arthur’s pen froze midwrite. “About what?”

Gwaine took a deep breath. “About how your father is trying to ruin me to get me to break up with you.” He sat down and told Arthur everything.

*

Gwaine checked the candy thermometer and smiled. The fudge was poured out of the pot and into the pan. It was a dark rich colour and smelled divine. A few of the sous chefs working on prep moaned and begged for some. “Not ready yet,” Gwaine said, “not for a while. Back to work.” He smoothed the mocha fudge carefully down and was pleased. He set that aside and poured out the other batch which was praline, a recipe he had bribed a man in New Orleans to get. That had been a fun week that he almost sort of remembered. 

“Mr. Greene, you should see this,” one of their drivers was reading on the phone. “Sort of about your bloke.”

“Hmm?” Gwaine looked up. “Arthur buy yet another company?”

“No, his father. He’s being investigated for insider trading, and a whole lot of other things. News says he’ll likely weasel out, but his reputation is tarnished forever with this.”

Gwaine cleaned his hands, and pulled out his own phone. He checked the news and fuck, there was a picture of Uther in handcuffs. He should not find that as satisfying as he did. Apparently there had been an anonymous source. Morgana, or maybe even Merlin. Merlin definitely would have turned Uther in for one corn chip. Arthur was going to be upset though. He turned off the burners. “Can you clean my pots?” One of their girls nodded and Gwaine thanked them. He went to Percival’s office and knocked. “I need to pop out.”

“Before you go, good news. Lancelot’s bank just signed a contract with us. They’ll be a small order likely but still. Looking up.”

“That is good,” Gwaine was pleased. “Back in an hour.”

Percival nodded and began to fill out the paperwork. Gwaine ran a couple of red lights to get to Arthur and he didn’t really care, he’d pay the fines happily. Arthur had to be hurting. Security waved him through and he pressed the button for Arthur’s floor. Gwen was waiting for the elevator as he stepped off. “How is he?” Gwaine asked.

“Fine, why?”

“The news, you’ve seen it?”

Gwen blinked, “Oh yes, just dreadful isn’t it?” She couldn’t stop the smirk from playing on her lips. “Awful. So awful.”

Gwaine wasn’t surprised she didn’t care, her love for Morgana had her generally good nature taking a turn for the dark. Gwaine gave a nod and went into Arthur’s office, prepared to find Arthur in a bad state.

Only he was playing foozball with Merlin. “Huh,” Gwaine said. He didn’t expect that. Though he knew they used the table to work through feelings. Maybe that is what they were doing.

“Gwaine, I was just getting hungry. Bit early though?” Arthur was smiling at him.

“Lancelot was happy he finally convinced the exec to contract with you. He was tired of me bragging about my awesome lunches. Score!” Merlin shouted.

“I was distracted by food,” Arthur said, “That is cheating.”

“Snooze, lose. Sucker. He doesn’t even have food.”

Oh god, did Arthur not even know? “I was worried about you,” Gwaine approached slowly. “And the news today?”

“They arrested Father,” Arthur shrugged. “Come on Merlin, let’s go.”

“Arthur, are you alright?”

“Sure,” Arthur was focused on the table. He dropped the ball in the centre, and he and Merlin were cursing out each other. “I mean hard to be upset when you were the anonymous tip off, isn’t it?”

Gwaine had to sit down. “You turned your father in?” He was so sure it was Morgana. Not Arthur. Arthur could never.

Arthur scored on Merlin and did his little victory dance. He then turned to Gwaine. “Of course I did. He fucked with you.” He was so matter of fact about it. “That is not acceptable.”

“You did that, for me?”

“Well also for years of trauma and abuse to my sister, and saying shit things to my idiot there,” he gestured to Merlin. “You were sort of the last straw. But a really big straw. Fuck, not big, because you aren’t big, all lean and shit from running.” Arthur winced.

“Deep breaths that let out all our negative emotions in a healthy way.”

“I let them out in a perfectly healthy way,” Arthur snapped back to Merlin, “I yell at my sports team, I work out, and apparently I get my father arrested.”

“For your boyfriend.”

“For the love of my life, you prick,” Arthur glared at him. “I wouldn’t get him arrested for a boyfriend. A boyfriend is around for what a few months, year and a half?”

“We are approaching that soon enough.”

“I know, I have it planned.”

“What planned?” Gwaine thought they were losing the thread a bit.

“He bought you a great ring,” Merlin said. “Well I assume it is great, they are still making it. All custom designed with a big fancy meaning.”

“Merlin, I will deal with my negative emotions on your arse, if you don’t shut it.”

“Sorry, only Lancelot gets my arse and only when he has been a very good boy.”

Gwaine would sometimes settle in to watch them bicker, because really it was an epically great show. But he needed them to focus which was hard once they got going. “You got me a ring?” He hand reached to his neck, to his father’s ring. Wait no, that wasn’t the important thing at the moment. “Arthur, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did. I spent too many years turning a blind eye to the unethical things he did to get ahead. I ignored it because I knew eventually I would be in charge and I would change things. But in looking so far ahead, a lot of people got hurt. And that was wrong. What he was doing was wrong, and it was time he paid for it.” Gwaine opened his mouth. “He has never quite come after mine before. Yes, he insults Merlin and Gwen, but he doesn’t consider them enough of a threat to go after.”

“He really should, I am plenty of a fucking threat,” Merlin muttered. Arthur snorted in dismissal which to Gwaine was a bit of a bad judgment, because he had no doubt in the right circumstances Merlin could be terrifying.

“And he hurt Morgana so many times in different ways, and when I was younger, well sibling rivalry and he was my hero. And later, mostly I wanted to make sure she didn’t actually kill him, because she would look awful in a prison uniform. But he deliberately went to destroy you. He’s never done that to a person before. He was so sure you would bend, that he knew your sort.”

“What is my sort?” Gwaine asked curious.

“His response or mine?”

“This is actually really cool,” Merlin offered. “Arthur will tell it shit. So he called his father, said he could use a consult, would even pay the going rate. Uther comes in all pleased and smug that Arthur needed him. They exchanged the blah blah blahs that men of business do, and then Arthur leaned back in his chair. _Uther_ , he actually called the arse Uther, _Uther it is my understanding that you are trying to ruin Gwaine’s business_. Then Uther prattled on about doing it to protect Arthur, he knew your sort, and didn’t Arthur know about you and Percival.”

“Which I did, you told me months ago,” Arthur interjected.

“So Uther has used the phrase your sort a bunch, what like five or six times. And the Arthur stands up and does the knuckled fists on the desk and says in this really feral and honestly if he wasn’t a prat I would find sexy voice ‘ _He is not a sort, he is mine and if you say his sort one more time in this conversation I promise you that any pain Morgana has visited upon you will feel like a fucking party in comparison to what wrath I bring down on you for insulting my husband._ ’ He was so into it forgot he wasn’t even proposing to you for another two months, ten days and about nine and a half hours.”

“But of course, Uther said my sort one more time,” Gwaine couldn’t take his eyes off of Arthur.

“Of course.”

“Do you know what is funny? Uther knew my father, at least a little. He was Caerleon’s chief financial officer. They would have golfed together.” Gwaine chuckled humourlessly. “I was almost your sort. If Caerleon hadn’t set up my father for a bad deal, and it caused him to have a heart attack and die.”

“I’m sorry,” Arthur came over and hugged him. 

“So you know, under slightly different circumstances, I would have exactly been the right sort.”

“You are already the right sort,” Arthur answered.

“Back to the epic saga. Uther leaves and Arthur picks up the phone, pale, shaking a bit, but entirely resolute in protecting his fair maiden’s honour. Knight in fucking armor, that whole shit. And then meetings, lots of long meetings with G-men.”

“We’re British Merlin, they weren’t G-men, they were some nice men from MI-something or other.”

“And this morning, Uther is arrested. Morgana already sent a fruit basket, it was all booze with a banana taped to it.”

“Merlin?”

“Yes?”

Gwaine didn’t look at him. “Go on coffee break.”

“No, I’m good.”

Gwaine sighed. “Merlin, just leave.”

“But this will be good,” Merlin complained, “And he’s just going to tell me after anyways.”

“It’s true.” Arthur agreed.

“You two are so fucking married.”

“No we aren’t,” they said at the same time.

Gwaine shook his head. “Arthur, I’m not worth this.”

“You fucking are to me.”

“A ring huh?” Gwaine nodded a bit as he thought. “If you gave it to me today, I’d say no. But in two months, ten days and about nine hours twenty minutes. I am certain I will say yes.”

“Good. Now that that is all settled, can Merlin and I go back to our important business meeting?”

“You can go back to foozball, yes.”

“When you bring by our lunch in an hour, can I change from the apple thing to the fudge?” Merlin asked.

“Not even a dessert day, Merls.”

“We earned it.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Gwaine left and he could hear Arthur’s cheer as he waited for the elevator. He must have scored. Gwaine went back to the shop, where everything was running well. The staff in a good mood, Percival whistling as he loaded the pallets in. They had a new contract, Uther was fucked, and in a couple months Arthur was going to propose.

Gwaine went in and began to help build the sandwiches. He picked up the tune Percival had been whistling, humming it as he scooped curried chicken salad onto a wrap. He was in a good mood as well, it seemed.


End file.
